


Anticipation Anxiety

by tokiidokii



Category: THE iDOLM@STER, The iDOLM@STER Sidem
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mental Illness, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokiidokii/pseuds/tokiidokii
Summary: Touma struggles to deal with newfound fears after a humiliating display in the middle of a concert leaves him traumatized. Convinced he's acting irrational, he forces himself to deal with it alone. Can his friends catch on before his self destructive habits leave lasting damage?





	1. Whoever Controls the Media

Touma had no idea what happened. He knew the important rules involved when eating before a live: don’t eat anything heavy directly before, but don’t forego food the whole day all together. Any food right before settled uncomfortably and interfered with movement, no food at all cause lightheadedness and even the possibility of fainting. 

So it stood to reason the three slices of pizza he had eaten two hours ago should have been like any other day. Yet here he was, minutes before a live, stomach rolling uneasily. He wondered if the other members, his friends, had noticed - he always focused intensely right before a live, so maybe not. He clenched his fist, took a deep breath, and released. No way he could let them down, let alone the fans.

A stagehand signaled the approaching time and led them backstage. The producer stood nearby, offering a wave. Touma waved back with a forced grin and hoped all the caked on stage make up disguised the paleness of his face. He sounded off a quick cheer before the show began, one that felt lifeless enough he almost missed Hokuto shooting him an odd look before they were up on stage. No, focus, everyone noticed when an idol held back!

He tried using the live as a distraction and threw himself into it. Thank God his throat didn’t feel too constricted to speak or sing. Just an ominous, wriggling feeling deep in his gut. 

The first song went on without a hitch. Focus on the steps. He had performed through worse. 

Second performance, it was as if he had entered a trance. Maybe he could do it after all.

Unfortunately, things rapidly headed downhill somewhere in the middle of the third song. He knew what sounds to make when and at what pitch he needed to make them, but in his head the lyrics sounded like jumbled, nonsensical words. Every dance move, each step brought him more and more aware of the contents of his stomach, sloshing and churning. The music stopped. The song had ended. He stared out into the crowd, at the blaring stage lights, dazed. Excited speech boomed through the stadium, punctuated by the screams of fangirls (and some fanboys, as well). Then, it grew hushed. Touma’s throat tightened.

“Touma? Hey hey, earth to Toumaaa?” Shota called and waved cutely, improvising Touma’s missed cue to speak, acting like a professional for the audience. More than Touma could claim about himself right now.

Touma opened his mouth to speak, but emitted a soft, nauseated hiccup in place of any words. It must have looked cute, because giggles erupted through the crowd. _Crowd_. His stomach convulsed. Realizing what a multitude of people were about to witness, Touma clasped his hand over his mouth and bolted for the stage exit. He took about four steps towards the right before his stomach lurched so hard he doubled over, late lunch crawling up in a wet cascade through his fingers and dripping onto the floor. The pained heave echoed through the auditorium for a good second before the sound guy abruptly cut Touma’s microphone, a second too late, as the humiliating noise rang in his ears and likely through the ears of every person in the building. His blood ran cold, pounding in his skull, frozen in place. Time stopped, and Touma felt forever trapped in the most embarrassing moment of his life. Suddenly, Hokuto materialized with a hand to Touma’s shoulder. Time moved forward.

“We need to get you off the stage. Can you walk?”

“A-ah...I think so...” His legs shook as he stepped around the pile of vomit. Shouta’s further attempts at crowd control sounded miles off the closer he got to backstage. Producer looked incredibly worried, as expected, and coaxed him towards a nearby chair. Someone handed him a towel which he gratefully wiped his hands and mouth with. Then, there was a water bottle in his face, which he barely took a sip of before the presence of something in his mouth made him gag.

“‘M gonna hurl again...” He managed to get out the warning this time, water running down his chin as he placed his hand back over his mouth. A trash can fell into his lap. As opposed to throwing up on the stage in a sudden pour, it took what felt like ages to force up the meager remains of his stomach contents. Now emptied, his whole body stiffened as he dry heaved into the trash. His face burned with embarrassment, desperate but unable to will himself to stop. A hand rubbed soothing circles into his back. As soft encouragements drifted around him, he realized after a good few seconds the hand belonged not to Hokuto, but to the producer. It struck him with his most coherent thought yet: he never would have been treated this kindly at the old agency.

The sweet gesture, simple as it was, snapped him out of it as Touma wheezed. Already bent double in his chair over the trash can, he let it fall two inches to the ground with an unceremonious clunk. Touma pulled back, closed his eyes, and rested his head on the wall behind him as he panted to regain his breath.

“I think Kaoru’s actually in the area right now. Do you want me to call him, Producer?” Ken asked.

“I doubt there’s much he can do, but it’s not a bad idea. The poor guy burning up.”

“And the show?”

Touma snapped to his senses. The show! He shot up out of his seat, only to sway as dizziness and nausea overtook him. Producer put his hands on Touma’s shoulders and gently pressed him down. He tried to fight back, but found himself too weak.

“You gotta let me go back...I can’t stay here...!”

“Please try to relax. We’ll call off the concert and reimburse the fans so they can come see you when you’re up for it.” 

“Goddammit...” Touma groaned, rubbing his eyes. An acrid stench hit his nose, and he pulled his hands back with a cough to discover brown staining the ends of his sleeves. “I threw up on the outfit...”

“I know.” Producer offered, voice calm. “It’s alright.”

“‘M sorry...” Touma said in an uncharacteristically meek tone as he eased back into the chair.

“I know.” Producer repeated, sadder. “Don’t worry about it.”

—--

Producer hit the brakes to avoid a car that drove too close for comfort, causing Touma to groan into the plastic bag he had produced for him from the glove box a little while ago. Every small movement of the car jostled his poor stomach further, eliciting weak heaves from the young man.

Producer glanced into the rear view mirror to see Shouta and Hokuto exchange raised eyebrows, concerned, yet a bit green around the gills from all the retching coming from the front seat. He quietly cracked all the windows of the car to block out the sound and let in some fresh air. No need for a chain reaction. 

“Touma’s gonna be alright...isn’t he?” Shouta piped up. 

“Kaoru’s coming to the hotel to give him a quick check up, just in case.” Producer answered.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Despite the positive encouragement, Hokuto settled his eyes on the floorboard. “Although...I can’t help but feel like this is partially my fault. I noticed Touma acting unlike himself right before the concert and said nothing. He may be our leader, but as the oldest I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Aw, Hokuto, you didn’t have a clue he’d be that sick.” Shouta placed a hand on Hokuto’s shoulder. 

“He’s right. If anything, I’m your producer. I should keep an eye on the well-being of all my idols, and I failed. I’m sorry, you two.” Producer stated solemnly, glancing back and forth between the rear view mirror and the road.

“Producer...” Hokuto objected. 

“Maybe....” Pausing to consider his words, Shouta put a hand to his chin. “Maybe it’s nobody's fault. Sometimes, when you gotta puke, you gotta puke. There’s not much we can do about that.”

A childish, simplistic answer, but one that must have brought comfort to Hokuto as well as the producer. It was best not to blame anyone in this situation.

After a moment, Producer shot another glance towards Touma. He had laid his forehead against the cool glass window and allowed the air from outside blow into his hair. His body shivered. Did he feel hot? Cold? Helpless, Producer sighed and focused his eyes back onto the road.

——

Producer, Shouta, and Hokuto sat pressed together on the small hotel couch, awaiting the results of Kaoru’s examination. The silence would be deafening if not for Kaoru’s soft, whispered questions, Touma’s hoarse, half-lucid answers, and the occasional rustle of blankets as Kaoru pressed his hands with careful precision onto Touma’s forehead, his neck, his abdomen.

“He’s running a moderate fever.” Kaoru stated as he crossed the room in a few strides, adjusting his glasses to peer down at his hastily written notes. “Nausea, dizziness, fatigue. No stomach pain other than muscle soreness from the vomiting. If he was in pain, or if I felt anything abnormal, it might be cause for concern. But since that’s not the case, I’m almost certain he just caught the stomach virus going around.”

“That’s a relief.” Producer sighed with a smile.

“Touma’s too fiery to let anything keep him down for long.” Hokuto stated cooly, but his body visibly relaxed.

“So he’s going to be okay?!” Shouta yelled, and Producer let out a soft shush to get him to quiet down. 

“Yes. That being said, he needs to stay hydrated. If he can’t keep down water within the next three hours, take him to the hospital so he can receive an IV.” It seemed like obvious advice, but Producer could tell he was deep within ‘doctor mode’ at this point.

“I understand. Thank you for all of your help, I really mean it.” When he recruited Kaoru, Producer hadn’t even considered of the utility of having an ex-doctor idol.

“Of course. We have to stay healthy, not only for the fans, but for each other.” Kaoru hummed. He placed his hand on the door handle, hesitating. “Keep me updated.”

“I’m gonna get Touma some water!” Shouta announced, launching himself off the couch.

“Not too much now, or you’ll make him ill again.” Hokuto warned.

“We will. Thank you again.” Producer gave him his best smile, and Kaoru couldn’t help but smile back.

——

“Did you...this article...just two hours after the...”

Familiar voices drifted in and out of his senses. Body heavy, barely awake, Touma struggled to pull himself into consciousness.

“Yes....angels have been...about Touma...”

The sound of his name caught his attention. What were they saying? The words all sounded muffled and far off. Wake up, wake up! Why was he even sleeping while the others were awake?

“Whu-“ He tried to speak, but found his throat sticky and dry. Touma cut himself off with a cough and groaned as a painful soreness flared up in his stomach.

“Touma?” The two said in unison.

Light, and a half drank water bottle came into his blurry view. He grabbed it, drinking desperately until it was empty. Touma crushed the useless plastic between his hands and let it fall to the floor. With a bit of effort, he rolled onto his back and sat up to see Shouta and Hokuto staring back at him behind a table across the room.

“Guys...?” Touma croaked.

“Looks like sleeping beauty’s come around at last.” Hokuto stood up first, approaching with his arm outstretched. Touma jerked back, but he had nowhere else to go as the man’s hand felt his forehead. “Still a bit warm.”

“I woke up before you! Has that ever even happened?” Shouta giggled and followed behind him.

“What time is it...?”

“Almost noon.” Hokuto replied. “The hotel said we can check out whenever you’re up for it, so don’t feel a need to rush.”

“Feelin’ any better?” Shouta asked.

“Mm...” Still tired. Sore. Incredibly thirsty. But no longer nauseous or dizzy. “Better than yesterday. I don’t feel like I’m gonna puke again, at le-“

Touma blinked. Hokuto and Shouta stared down at him, silent. Letting the realization set in on its own.

“Oh shit...shit, that’s right.” Touma put his head in his hands, unable to muster up the energy to get mad. Instead, shame coursed through him while the memories came back to him all at once. The shiny case of his phone glinted out of the corner of his eye, and he snatched it up in an instant.

“The reactions aren’t as bad as you’d think. A few accusations of overwork, but 315pro is issuing a statement today you were simply feeling unwell.” Hokuto stated in hope to lessen Touma’s shame.

‘Touma Amagase Vomit’. Thousands of results appeared in an instant. Articles, tweets, posts, blog entries...

“Yeah, there’s lots of fans tweeting hoping you feel better!” Shouta reassured.

Touma stopped listening as soon as video results started showing up on his phone. A harsh chill wracked his body, as if someone had splashed him with icy water. There must have been a dozen of them recorded from all different angles, their titles ranging from clickbait-y ‘you’ll never believe what Touma Amagase did on stage #fail’ to horrifyingly straight forward ‘Touma Amagase Pukes Live on Stage 2018’. He threw his phone down on the bed in frustration and laid his head in his hands.

“Let’s just forget this whole thing ever happened, okay? I really, really don’t want to think about it. Ever.”

“I know it’s hard disappointing our little angels, but your health has to come first, no?”

“Yeah! The fans totally understand.”

The fans...Touma distinctly recalled that upsetting him the most yesterday. It still sucked, of course; making people smile was the idol’s job, and one very well can’t accomplish that when cancelling concerts midway through. But was that the feeling that bothered him now? It should be the fans. His own selfish thoughts disgusted him, so he kept them to himself.

“Yeah, I know...It was just kind of embarrassing, that’s all.” Touma slid out of bed and placed his socked feet on the floor. “It doesn’t matter anyways, I feel much better now. C’mon, let’s get going.”

——

Touma’s condition improved as time passed, feeling more and more like himself after a hot shower and a little food in his belly. Seems his illness was mercifully short-lived, left only with a low grade fever that had yet to break. No problem, the producer already gave him the day off to rest and recover. All that remained was checking out of the hotel.

Hokuto handled the counter while Touma stood nearby, closing his eyes as a massive yawn overtook him. He needed a nap. When he opened his eyes, a young woman had appeared before him, staring up at him expectantly. Tenacity of fans never failed to disappoint - they had only planned to be in the public eye for a few minutes before going home, and someone had already spotted them. 

“Touma!? It’s really you!” She gasped. “I’m a huge fan of you. Can we take a selfie?”

Touma glanced around. The lobby was almost empty, so the chances of a ton of people suddenly clamoring for pictures or autographs was pretty low.

“I don’t see why not!” He grinned at her, and the fan girl beamed back as she saddled up close to his side and snapped the picture.

“Thanks! It looks like you’re feeling better, I’m glad.” Ice ran in his veins.

“E-eh? You were at the concert last night? Uh, sorry about that.” The whole ‘thank you for your continued support’ speech vanished from his mind.

“Oh, I wasn’t there. Everyone in the fan club was just talking about the fact you were sick, it was a huge shock! I’ll make sure to tell them you’re better!”

“Thanks...” The response rang hollow. The weight of everything she told him settled directly into his gut, a tangible reminder of what had occurred. Of course, he would never feel ungrateful for the well wishes of a fan, but to be reminded in person? It nauseated him. 

He must have zoned out because she suddenly uttered ‘well, bye!’ and scurried off.

“Touma...?” Shouta asked, having watched the exchange. 

“That young lady...” Hokuto approached him from behind, frowning. “You’ve got that look in your eye. Did she do anything...”

The last word remained unspoken. Some fans thought they could get away with whatever they wanted just because they were girls.

“I don’t think so.” Shouta responded. “He just kinda-“

“No, no, I’m fine. She was...really nice.” Touma mumbled and rubbed his eyes. “I just....I don’t feel so good all of a sudden. I just want to go home.” 

“Alright. The producer said he’d drive us home today, he’s outside waiting for us.” Hokuto placed a hand on Touma’s back. 

Touma tucked his hands in his pockets as they walked, nausea worsening. Had his fever gone back up? He dreaded the thought of getting sick again, let alone so soon. Was that girl still around? What if she saw? Even if she didn’t, what about Hokuto and Shouta? How long was the car ride home again? How long would he have to sit there, trapped, with nowhere to hide? The walk through the parking lot felt like it took ages.

“Ready to go?” Producer greeted with a wave. “Touma, you’re looking kind of pale. Do you need a minute?”

“I...Y’know what, I’m going to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be back.” He said hastily. Touma dreaded to think what might happen if he entered the car now. Hokuto opened his mouth to protest, so Touma shot him down. “Stay here.”

The three already figured what he meant, but it comforted him to avoid saying it outright. Touma scurried back into the lobby, throat tightening, and made it to the bathroom just in time as he started to gag. Lucky for him, the place was void of any prying eyes and ears. Something about the bathroom stall simply felt safe as he leaned over and heaved into the porcelain bowl. 

The state of his body and mind improved after vomiting once again. Now that his stomach was empty, he had nothing left to make him nauseous on the ride home. Of course, that wasn’t technically true, but he forced that thought away. Confidence restored for now, Touma exited the bathroom and left the hotel to find Hokuto, Shouta, and Producer all waiting in the car.

“Hey, feel better?” Shouta questioned with more concern than Touma would have liked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Touma said as he buckled his seat belt. “Let’s get going.”


	2. Empty Promises on an Empty Stomach

Within the next few days, a foreign emotion clouded over Touma’s mind. Maybe it was residual, he had gotten ill in such a short time and dehydrated almost to the point of hospitalization. Maybe the hospital would have improved his condition, he thought, because living as-is was a bit...difficult. 

At first, things were fine. His fever broke that evening. Sure, he expected to feel at less than 100% the next day, too. The day after that, he felt mostly like himself, allowed another day off on the insistence of the Producer. It was Monday now, two full days had passed since the concert. That was where things began to fall apart. Eating in the comfort of his own home provided him with a important sense of security; no prying eyes to see him if he were to get sick, fans and unit members alike. However, he still had to live his life, and a sense of dread came over him at the thought of further embarrassing himself. But, that was stupid, wasn’t it? His stomach bug had long passed, so there was no reason to worry. 

He ate breakfast despite his apprehension and donned his usual hat and glasses to make it through public transportation unnoticed. But suddenly surrounding himself with other people filled him with mounting discomfort, and he chastised himself for putting something in his stomach. Heart pounding, he powered through until reaching the office, practically sprinting past the producer in an effort to get to practice and some much needed solitude. The little clouds in his brain that made his chest tight and his stomach nauseous dissipated as his mind found something to focus on. 

That was until Hokuto entered the room, trailed by a slightly sleepy Shouta.

“Ah, the producer said you were here. Good morning.” Hokuto waved.

“Morning.” Touma half grunted before he turned the music off. 

“Did he tell you about his plans for a last minute change in the schedule?”

“No, I was kind of in a hurry. What’s up?” He questioned. Touma went to take a drink from his water bottle. Out of nowhere he recalled the concert, drinking water and throwing it back up...He jerked to a stop and set it back down on the floor. He wasn’t that thirsty anyways. Hokuto never questioned it as he went on with his explanation.

“Producer scheduled a last minute interview tomorrow about the incident last concert. Now that you’re well, he wants your help to make it clear it was nothing more than a freak occurrence.”

Talk about it? Again?! Why can’t everyone just forget about it already?

“Tch. All the corruption in this industry and that’s what they’re worried about?” Unable to hit something that wasn’t a person or a mirror, Touma folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Well tell him _I_ don’t think it’s important.”

“Producer said-” Shouta cut himself off with a yawn. “-it was ‘mportant…”

“I know it seems unnecessary, but I understand the angel’s concerns. Not to mention, the media will make a big deal out of anything.” Hokuto said as he walked up to Touma. 

Touma’s jaw tensed. “L-let them think what they want. It’s not true.” Even a small voice in his head realized such a statement was irrational. But the prospect of having to talk about it, let alone to complete strangers? Terrifying. What scared him, Touma didn’t know, but he wanted to avoid it.

“Rumors were spreading all weekend over social media, you know.” No, Touma didn’t know, he was too much of a coward to check. Hokuto continued, “Normally, I might agree with you, but some of them have picked up speed. I’m not sure why, but…”

“Ah.” Shouta, who had been standing in place near the door, bleary eyed, suddenly snapped his eyes open as if hit with an epiphany.

“Ah?” Touma repeated.

“I don’t want to scare anybody or anything...but you don’t think that it could be...y’know…”

A heavy silence fell over them. 

“D-don’t joke about things like that.” Touma mumbled. 

His stomach soured at the realization that man most certainly knew about this. He probably watched the footage, taking delight in one of Touma’s most vulnerable moments. Touma shuddered and ran a hand through his hair as he imagined it. Laughing, cooking up some sort of scheme to make Touma look even worse - but what could make Touma look any worse than anything he hadn’t already done himself, what could be more disgusting than puking in front of a live audience th-

“Touma? Touma, are you okay?” Hokuto interrupted his thoughts by snapping his fingers in front of his face, and Touma realized his body had been trembling. Terror? Rage? He didn’t know. A glimpse of himself in the mirror revealed his whole face had turned burning red, so maybe it was the latter. Looking at Hokuto, it was clear the man wanted to touch him as one hand hovered in the air, but fear held him back. Shouta ran up next to him with a similar display of uncertainty on his features.

“Yeah, I’m fine. The thought of that old man...just pisses me off.” Touma grumbled, lowering Hokuto’s hand for him.

“Sorry, I just thought it was worth mentioning…” Shouta muttered, playing with a string on his hoodie. Touma felt a pang of guilt seeing his downtrodden expression.

“No, don’t feel bad. It was.” It was, but Touma still wished he hadn’t put that thought in his head. Nevertheless, he ruffled Shouta’s hair a little.

“It’s good to stay on our guard, but let’s not get paranoid. No one’s career is going to get ruined over something as trivial as this. If there was any foul play involved, some big story would have broke by now.” Hokuto smiled and put his arm on Touma. After a moment, he nodded in agreement.

“Alright, enough worrying. Since you’re already here, you guys want to go over some steps?” Touma asked, desperate to will away his own worries.

Somehow, Touma managed to keep down breakfast entirely while around the others. They practiced through the morning, but things got awkward by the time lunch rolled around. Eating another meal meant pushing his luck further, luck Touma doubted he had amidst this weird affliction of his mind. 

“Woohoo! Lunch break!” Shouta practically jumped for joy by the time noon rolled around. “I’m so hungry. Where are you taking us, Hokuto?”

“What makes you think I’m treating everyone?” Hokuto questioned, tone light and playful. With a light smile, he turned to Touma. In turn, Touma internally steeled himself. “Why don’t we ask Touma where he wants to go?”

“Touma!” Shouta called, as if Touma wasn’t standing right there. “Where do you wanna eat?”

Touma avoided their eye contact as he answered. “Sorry guys, I need to run back home and get something. You go on without me, okay?” On some level, it struck him he was flat out lying to his two closest friends. It wasn’t as if a lie like this could hurt them, though. The less they knew about this, the better. No need to worry them.

“Awwww.” Shouta whined, jutting out his lower lip in a pout. “But what are you gonna eat?”

“I’ll just have to grab something for lunch at a convenience store. I can feed myself, I’m an adult.” Touma stated, hands on his hips. Hokuto frowned visibly, causing Touma to roll his eyes. His uncertainty rubbed off on Shouta, who stood between the two with a confused look. “Don’t worry so much. I’m fine.”

“If something _was_ wrong, you’d tell us, wouldn’t you?” Hokuto looked torn between dropping it and pressing the subject further. 

“Of course.” Touma answered without hesitation. He really wanted to believe nothing was wrong. The answer satisfied Hokuto enough to turn his attention back to Shouta, but Shouta suddenly looked unconvinced. He took a step forward and held out his little finger.

“You promise?” He asked. Touma’s chest felt tight, but he willed his face not to betray him.

“I promise.” Touma accepted the finger in his own. “Now, go make Hokuto buy you some lunch.”

“Yay!”

“Why am I the one paying…?”

 _Now_ Touma felt bad, but he couldn’t stop himself. What would he even tell them? He supposed the issue would never become their problem if Touma didn’t allow it. Nowhere else to go, Touma almost robotically felt himself going back home for no other reason than it was what he said he would do. At least, that part was true. But the fact he had lied, broken a promise to Shouta just by forming it weighed heavily on his mind. He decided then that he needed to face this thing in whatever way he could to keep himself from letting the others down. Despite the rumbling in his stomach, Touma forgoed lunch to combat this new problem. 

He returned to the office when it was time and worked until Producer dismissed them. Hokuto and Shouta had dropped the suspicious act, and the two treated him as they always had. Maybe things could go back to normal at last. 

Although, admittedly, Touma had never been so happy for the work day to be over. Body starved of food for a good twelve hours, he hurried home for a much needed meal in the privacy of his own house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is short, but I think the pacing is best to cut it off on this note. Thank you for reading up to this point!


	3. Hiding the Evidence

Touma spent the next morning debating on how to handle himself during the interview. He managed yesterday to get through the day without vomiting, but came far too close for comfort. Deciding on breakfast gave him the most trouble. Should he eat something before leaving? Assuming he skipped lunch again today, he would get awfully hungry. He decided to compromise: first, he ate only some fruit for breakfast, then he packed a few supplies in the back of his jeans pocket in case the worst came to pass. With a deep breath, Touma left the house to face the day head on.

\-----

Touma met up with Hokuto and Shouta at the office before the three headed out together. His chest felt tight. The feeling was almost nostalgic, honestly, remembering the days when they were all new to the scene and interviews gave him butterflies in his stomach. Much to his dismay, the current sensation plaguing him lacked the excitement, the hopeful anticipation. He just felt dread, plain and simple. Dread of embarrassing himself in front of his friends, fans, strangers…

Willfully trapping himself within public transportation vehicles only made matters worse. It was the morning, so everyone was on their way to work. Shouta had leaned against Touma a few minutes earlier and fallen asleep as a result. With one hand steadying Shouta, Touma grabbed onto the rail with his free hand and tried to banish any intrusive thoughts about how inconvenient it would be to get sick right now. Hokuto stood nearby while checking his phone. He hated the silence of the car. Was he nauseous already?

Just when Touma thought he might suffocate, the trio reached their destination and exited the car. Having the ability to run away took a lot of pressure off, he decided. So, that was the next step - to keep an eye out for escape routes in any situation. It would be a pain, but it sounded far better than the alternative.

They met up with their usual reporter in a small cafe on the outskirts of town. It was nice to see a friendly, familiar face. Touma knew for a fact this topic would be hard to discuss, so if nothing else, the man knew his boundaries.

“Hello, boys. It seems like quite a lot of things have changed since we talked last, hasn’t it?” He greeted, already seated at a nearby table.

“Yeah, haha. Things are way better at 315Pro!” Shouta declared.

“Come take a seat and tell me about it.” He said as he gestured to the place in the booth across from him.

Shouta slid onto the end of the bench without hesitation. Touma started to follow, but he stopped himself when he reached the table. Getting trapped...he glanced around the room.

“Hmm? What are you looking for?” Asked Hokuto.

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

“I believe it’s over there.” The reporter replied, pointing in the general direction behind them. “Would you like to go before we get started?”

“No, I was just curious.” Touma spotted a sign with an arrow hidden in a nearby corner and felt mildly relieved. He turned to Hokuto. “Hokuto, why don’t you sit?” 

“Huh? Me? Don’t you usually sit in the middle?” Hokuto blinked, but he listened anyways.

“I always sit in the middle. I want to sit on the outside this time.” Touma offered, taking a seat on the end. Perfect. 

“Let’s get started then. Since I’m certain this topic isn’t pleasant, let’s start off with some general questions about 315Pro and work from there…”

Touma tried his best to make it through the interview without getting overwhelmed by this...whatever it was. It initially wasn’t so bad. They ordered drinks, and Touma received a glass of ice water he never bothered to touch. The reporter asked why they chose 315Pro, what it was like, what the other idols were like, questions like that. They picked their words carefully when it came to talking about the past, rather, focusing on the bright future ahead for Jupiter and Jupiter fans alike. The positive image 315Pro needed amongst controversy.

The interview went south when the reporter turned to Touma. “Fans have been quite concerned about you ever since your last live. What do you have to say about it?” It struck Touma with a chill.

“I’m very grateful for all the supportive responses I’ve gotten.” Touma hadn’t read any of them. He had been too scared. The nausea that had taken a backseat in the past fifteen minutes or so came back with full force. “But I don’t let people walk all over me. It only happened because I...of my own mistakes. I’m...sorry to everyone who...went to that live and...s-saw me.”

“If I’m not mistaken, Touma,” Hokuto started with a frown. “You were running a high fever that night. I’d hardly call that your fault. It was out of your control.” Hokuto said it as if lack of control wasn’t the part Touma hated the most. He wondered how much longer he could keep this up.

“And did you see what happened after you puked on the stage?” If Shouta kept talking after that, Touma failed to process it.

The question sent him reeling. Touma did that. He really _did_ that. The memory, burnt into his mind like an iron branding, presented itself. When he thought he could do it, until the movements jostled him so much, singing until his throat got too tight, when the lights caught in his eyes and he saw all the people before him. He had tried to run, but there was nowhere to hide on a concert stage. He hardly even felt himself gag before it had gone everywhere, dripping down from his arms onto the floor-

“You didn’t, did you?” Shouta asked. “Well-”

Touma hiccuped.

“Can we break?” He cut off whatever Shouta was saying abruptly as he stood up from his spot.

“But what about-”

“Gonna use the bathroom.” Touma announced and swiftly headed in that direction just in time for his mouth to start watering.

Were the bathrooms far enough away from where they were sitting? Touma considered this as he locked himself in a stall. He started flushing as soon as the gagging began to mask the sound, just in case. Touma mentally kicked himself for bothering to eat breakfast, he should have known this kind of thing would shoot his nerves completely. With what little food in his body expelled, Touma emerged from the bathroom and popped a stick of gum in his mouth. Shouta stared out the window with a strange, unreadable expression on his face that vanished as soon as Touma reappeared.

“Hey, you have gum?” He perked up. “Let me have some!”

“Fine, fine.” He immediately relented and passed a piece across the table. Shouta unwrapped it and pouted.

“Aww, it’s just mint?” He stuck it in his mouth anyways.

“Touma…” Hokuto spoke with worry in his voice. “Are you-”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna ask what I think you’re gonna ask.” Touma huffed as his fingers rapted against the table, annoyed at Hokuto's needless worry. “We had this conversation yesterday.”

“Well, it’s not that, I just don’t think I...” He paused to consider his words. “...realized how affected you were by the whole thing.”

“I’m not! I’m not. I told you, I’m just tired about talking about it.” Touma responded hotly. His fingers sped up.

Though Hokuto was normally not one for confrontation, he pressed forward out of concern. “You cut Shouta off twice and practically ran away.”

“I don’t mind…” Shouta chimed in in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

“Because! I’m tired of talking about it! Why do you keep making everything such a big deal?!” Touma smacked his hand on the table, rattling the glasses. Hokuto held his arms up defensively.

“You’re the one throwing a fit, Touma. I’m only asking you these questions because you’re my friend, and you’ve been acting strangely.”

“Hokuto, maybe if you’d stop being a little-”

“GUYS!” Shouta yelled, and the pair jumped in response. “Can we not fight right now? We’re still being interviewed…”

Touma sheepishly glanced over at the reporter, who had simply been watching them with a wide eyed stare. Touma cleared his throat, averted his eyes, and folded his hands on the table.

The reporter straightened himself up back to being a professional. “Don’t worry, I won’t keep that part in. I hadn’t even turned the tape recorder back on yet from our break. We’ve clearly delved into some sensitive territory, and I apologize. Why don’t we finish up with some happier topics and leave off on a good note?”

What remained of the interview went well enough. Touma forced himself to stay patient through it, though having emptied his stomach helped him to calm down considerably. Hokuto only meant the best, he reminded himself. This kind of tension between them would never do if Touma intended to keep things a secret.

After the interview concluded, Touma stepped outside with the others in tow. Everyone looked like they wanted to say something, but Touma beat them to the punch.  
“Hey, so uh...sorry if I acted like a jerk. Thinkin’ about this whole thing...the past few days have been hard for me.” Touma scratched the back of his head and stared at the ground.

“I know.” Hokuto sighed. “I think I still just blame myself for what happened.”

“Well, now that the interview’s over, the good news is that we don’t have to worry about it again!” Shouta exclaimed. “Right…?”

“Right.” Touma hoped so, but he doubted it.

\-----

After the interview, things settled amongst the fanbase almost immediately. Life went on, and the three took on jobs and events separate from one another for an unusually long stretch. Touma was thankful - he could act differently around the rest of the idols, who didn’t know him as well and wouldn’t pry. Despite serious drawbacks, Touma improved at managing his condition. He skipped breakfast and lunch almost every day and scouted out the location of the nearest bathroom everywhere he went. Skipping meals proved to be the greatest challenge, hunger almost constant as nausea to the point where lack of food sometimes made him feel sicker. But it still paid off, as Touma had not vomited once since the interview two weeks ago. 

But the fear still lingered.

Touma had just returned home and was stuffing his face with some fast food when his phone buzzed. Another change, he had cooked much less lately. Exhausted and painfully hungry at the end of each day, all he wanted was a meal in his stomach, and he wanted it fast. Burger in one hand, he grabbed a napkin with the other and crumpled it up between his fingers in a half-assed attempt to wipe off the grease before discarding it on the floor and picking up his cell phone. There was a new message from Producer in the group chat meant for Jupiter. Taking another bite, Touma opened the message.

_Hello all - as you know, Dramatic Stars are having a concert tomorrow night. Unfortunately, it seems we’re going to be short a few stagehands. I know it’s your day off, but would you three mind coming in tomorrow for just a couple of hours? You have quite a bit of experience setting up for concerts, and we could really use the help. Thanks._

Goddammit. Touma was really looking forward to eating tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be the last one! It'll be pretty long.


	4. Anger is a Secondary Emotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! It's gonna be five chapters instead.

It suddenly struck him the next morning as he changed out of his pajamas and glanced in the mirror that he had probably lost weight. Nothing about his own physical appearance struck him as too out of the ordinary, but eating only one meal a day was almost like a crash diet. Should he check? Not that there was much he could do to fix it, but the question weighed further and further on his mind as his body asked for breakfast that wasn’t coming. He had a scale in the bedroom closet. He could check.

He shouldn’t check.

But he dragged it out anyways, just for a quick look. Touma placed his foot on the scale and waited for it to come to life before standing with his full weight on it.

54 kg.

He hurriedly put it back and the closet and headed out, face burning at his stupidity, desperate to get the number out of his mind.

\---

Maybe he should have at least entertained the idea of saying no, Touma thought to himself as he struggled more than usual moving around equipment. Producer never _required_ them to come. But he knew for a fact Hokuto and Shouta would agree, so turning him down would just make Touma come off as an asshole. Plus, he liked the Dramatic Stars guys. Under different circumstances, Touma might have had more enthusiasm to help out. 

Unfortunately, just the presence of a stage caused that funny wriggling feeling in his stomach that usually only lingered in the background to intensify. That was new. And _frightening_. They were even in a different concert hall from the one he had barfed in. No, Touma refused to believe that after two years of performing he had somehow managed to develop stage fright. He loved singing more than anything else. What was an idol who couldn’t even go up on stage? 

“Touma?” Shouta called, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh wha?” His head snapped around until he looked down and saw Shouta standing in front of him.

“Haha, did I interrupt your transmission? You were totally spaced out just now.” Shouta giggled. “Anyways, there’s some boxes Producer needs moved off stage. Can you get them?”

Touma considered asking Shouta to do it instead…

No. He had to be able to get up on the stage.

“I’m on it!” Touma declared with the best confidence he could muster.

He reassured himself on the way that things would go just fine. Nothing to worry about. He had been on stages a countless number of times, seen by thousands, probably millions of different individuals at this point. He turned the corner to head backstage, fighting a growing tightness in his throat. He only needed to be on the stage for a moment to grab what their producer needed. Not a big deal at all. Approaching the steps, Touma swallowed hard and ascended onto the stage. 

He saw a few boxes sitting in a pile near the center of the stage. This made for good practice for the real thing, he decided. Going back and forth a few times until he reminded himself the concert hall wasn’t a scary place to be. Touma bent down to pick up the first box, when he heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, Touma?” Hokuto called from the left side of the stage.

“What?” Touma barked, spinning on his heel to-

Ah. The blaring stage lights caught in his eyes. For a split second, he was back, back in that awful memory, back in one of the worst moments of his life. The box dropped to the floor, rattling, as Touma shielded his eyes in a futile effort to make it go away.

“Touma?!” Hokuto repeated, louder, at his side in an instant.

Touma _refused_ to have a repeat of last time.

“Be right back.” He forced out, just short of running past Hokuto. He could make it. He already mentally noted where the bathroom was as soon as they arrived.

Touma started retching just as he entered the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the stall as he flipped the toilet seat up and bent over the porcelain bowl. His empty stomach convulsed, trying and failing to rid itself of whatever made it feel so ill. Knees buckling from strain, he forced a meager amount of bile out of his system. He coughed from the acidic taste, when suddenly- 

“Touma?” The door squeaked open. Hokuto. Touma’s mind ran with excuses, if he had time to hide, clean up, anything at all. But, in perhaps the hundredth time these past two weeks, his body disobeyed, and he heaved again. “Oh God, Touma. I knew it.”

Unable to pick himself up in time to lock the stall, Hokuto burst in to find Touma in yet another shameful display. He directed his gaze at his older team member from over his shoulder, a mess of emotions - face hot with shame, body trembling with fear, eyes burning with hate. Not for Hokuto, but for himself. Despite the sorry state Hokuto had found him in, he reached forward to rub the still-heaving Touma’s back. His whole body physically recoiled as he mustered up a shout -

“Don’t FUCKING touch me!” From his head to his mouth, it transformed from a harsh demand into a miserable plea. Hokuto, well aware of Touma’s boundaries, pulled back and left him to finish. 

Try as it might, his body had nothing left to expel as it wracked with dry heaves. Finally finished and gasping for breath, Touma tipped towards the left and leaned against the wall for support with his eyes closed. Just a little longer. Hokuto flushed for him. Just a little longer, please. Hokuto presented him with a cold, damp handkerchief, which he gratefully used to pat his flushed cheeks and wipe his mouth clean. Just a little longer before he had to confront awful reality. Hokuto only spoke once Touma’s breathing steadied.

“...why?” He finally pleaded. Touma glanced up at him, then yanked his head away once he saw Hokuto’s expression. Angry. Betrayed. Sad. “Why didn’t you tell us you’ve been sick for this long?” Touma sighed. He wasn’t sick.

“I’m not-”

“Seriously? Are you going to pull that now?” Hokuto scoffed. Touma wished he could explain himself, but he deserved this. “I knew something was wrong. But I wanted to believe you. That you were telling the truth…that you were okay…”

Touma didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

“Have you...been to a doctor?” Hokuto forced his voice to steady.

“No…” Touma admitted. He braced himself for another lecture, but the lecture never came. Hokuto only offered Touma his hand. Touma hesitated, staring at the floor before slowly rolling his gaze up to meet Hokuto’s. The other’s eyes narrowed with determination. 

“Can you stand? Producer deserves to know about this.” Touma doubted he deserved a friend as kind as Hokuto as he helped him up off the floor. He grimaced, both from sore muscles and the thought of others knowing his secret.

“Just the thought of that makes me nauseous…” He muttered. Once he found his footing, Hokuto stepped with him out of the bathroom.

“I can talk to him. Just...take it easy, okay? For all of us.”

“I…okay.” Touma relented, too worn out to argue.

Producer was in the dressing room with the members of Dramatic Stars, so Hokuto parked Touma underneath the AC in the corner before pulling Producer out into the hallway for a private talk. Touma felt guilty for interrupting the concert prep and ultimately being dead weight, but at least it was barely noon. The concert was still hours off. He must have looked pathetic, though, because Tsubasa bought him a ginger ale from the vending machine without even listening to Producer and Hokuto’s conversation. He opened it as courtesy but never actually took a sip.

More importantly, Kaoru had not stopped eyeing him since he entered the room. Those eyes, cold and unreadable, betrayed nothing more than a slight curiosity in Touma’s condition. Before long, he stepped out into the hallway and only returned when Hokuto and Producer stepped back into the room.

“Hey hey, don’t go running your mouth about this to the entire agency!” Touma shouted, pointing at Kaoru.

“Sorry, sorry.” Producer bowed his head a little in apology. “It’s just...he might be able to help, you know?”

“Excuse me. Your condition simply has me intrigued, Amagase.” He adjusted his glasses. “May we talk for a moment?”

“Don’t you have a concert to get ready for?” Touma put some fire behind the question, but at the same time he didn’t want to delay anyone’s schedule.

“I think I have a few moments to spare for this. Let’s talk somewhere private.” Kaoru’s tone indicated he had little choice in the matter. Hokuto and Producer looked on at him expectantly as well, so Touma pulled himself to his feet and followed after Kaoru. 

They ended up in a rather spacious supply closet, probably used as storage for large equipment currently in use. There was a large stack of spare folding chairs leaned against the wall. Touma helped himself to a chair, still feeling woozy from his episode earlier. Considering their location and Kaoru’s icy stare, he felt more like he was in an interrogation than a doctor’s appointment.

“Ijuin told me about his observations of you, particularly around the time of the interview.” Kaoru began. Touma was dying to know what all Hokuto told them, but he figured that was the exact reason they stood out of earshot. Hearing Hokuto worry and describe Touma puking would just stress him out. “It appears you may have been hiding quite a few incidents such as the one you had today, as well as skipping meals and acting erratically in general. Amagase, your condition isn’t physical, is it?”

“I…” Touma scratched his arm. “How did you know?”

“You just told me. Though I did have my suspicions...” Kaoru had tricked him, and Touma fell for it.

“Shit, really? If you’re gonna pull that, I’m leaving.” Irritated, Touma folded his chair against the wall and stood up to leave, when suddenly Kaoru lunged forward and seized his left shoulder. Touma flinched, eyes darting to see Kaoru’s frowning face. 

“Dizziness. Exhaustion. Hair loss. Weight loss. Seizures. Brittle bones. Do you understand the severity of your condition?” Touma tried to step back, but Kaoru gripped his right shoulder with his other hand. “You are destroying your body. You could _die_ , Touma!”

Cornered, Touma put his hands on his head and fought to pull away as he tried not to let the trapped feeling overwhelm him. Realizing he had gone too far, Kaoru released him and took a step back to give him some space. Touma sank to the floor before his legs gave out from under him.

“Wait, Touma, don’t-” He cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m not...it’s not that you’re suffering. It’s that you don’t seem to grasp how serious this situation is. A lot of people are counting on you. Lying to your teammates...Ijuin still thought you were hiding a physical illness. We can keep it from everyone else, but you at least need to be honest with your friends and tell them you have anorexia.”

Touma blinked, caught off guard in his panic by Kaoru’s accusation. Anorexia, huh? He considered his feelings for a brief moment. He had heard of eating disorders in the industry because of the pressures to maintain appearance, so he had a vague idea of what that entailed. The vomiting, the hiding, the lack of eating...but the motives were all wrong. In a few moments, he concluded whatever this was, it wasn’t anorexia.

“No. No, that’s wrong, I don’t-”

“Touma, there’s no need to lie-”

“FUCK! Hear me out for a second! Didn’t you used to be a doctor?!” He expected pushback, but Kaoru simply closed his mouth and waited for him to continue. “I didn’t realize that’s what it looked like. But trust me when I say I’m not...I’m not doing this on purpose. It’s not a body image...thing. I’ve never had a problem with that. If anything, I wish I could stop. Stop puking...stop skipping meals…stop...stop losing weight.”

“Then why do you?” Kaoru put a hand to his chin in thought.

“I...God, this is gonna sound stupid.”

“Your health isn’t ‘stupid’, Touma. Tell me.” Now that Touma had agreed to cooperate, Kaoru’s harshness had melted away into genuine concern for his ‘patient’.

“Well, ever since that night at the concert where I...was sick on the stage.” That was all Touma needed to say to light Kaoru’s eyes up with realization. “It was...I...y’know. Embarrassing. I never want to go through anything like that ever again…so I...”

“Have you been making yourself vomit in order to prevent vomiting later?” Kaoru asked. 

“No, I _just_ told you I’d stop if I could. I’m just- I’m-” Touma’s face flushed with hot shame as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t think he could admit it.

“You’re literally worrying yourself sick, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah...yeah.” In a sense. “I told you it was stupid, ahah.”

“I already told you my stance on that. Anyways…” Kaoru knelt down in order to be eye level with Touma, who refused to make eye contact as he fought back his tears. “I’m not a doctor anymore. Even if I was, I couldn’t help you with this issue, because it sounds like you’re suffering from an anxiety disorder. But look at me.”

Willing himself not to cry, Touma inhaled deeply and met his determined gaze.

“I can get you in contact with specialists who can help you. You’ll require counseling for a while to teach you how to deal with intrusive thoughts, perhaps a temporary subscription for anxiety medication to help aid you through the process, or longer if this is a sign of a larger underlying condition. That isn’t my judgement call to make, but I do know you’ll never recover in a healthy way if you continue down your current path.”

“Pl-please…” He dug his fingers into his scalp. “Just make it stop!” 

“Alright…I’ll make some calls after the live.” A kind of tension Touma didn’t even notice in Kaoru’s voice vanished as the other man got to his feet. “You should still talk to your friends, you know. They’re terribly worried.”

“I...I know.” Touma took his hands off of his head, put them on his knees, and stared at the floor. “Can you go get ‘em…?”

“I will, then I need to get back to work.” Kaoru headed for the door while Touma slowly dragged himself back into his chair.

“Hey…”

“...” Kaoru hesitated with his hand on the door knob.

“I...thanks….”

“We need to stay healthy. Not only for the fans, but for each other...and for our own sake as well.” On that note, Kaoru left before Touma could say anything else.

Dread settled heavy in his gut as he waited for his friends to arrive to confront them about his lies, but in all honesty, he felt less nervous than he thought he would. Not for rational reasons, just a groggy fog threatened the edge of his senses and made the idea a little easier to bear. Perhaps the adrenaline that coursed through him upon Hokuto’s discovery in the bathroom had worn off and left him exhausted. Of course, the second he heard the handle turn, his heart started pounding.

In the doorway stood his two closest friends - Hokuto, sad and frowning in confusion, and Shouta, brows furrowed with anger and concern.

“So...we need to talk-”

“Touma!” Shouta shouted, bounding forward to close the distance between them in just a few steps. He bent forward a little to get on eye level with a sitting Touma, who turned his head to the side guiltily. “You lied!” Hokuto’s frown deepened.

“Now Shouta-”

“Touma, why? Why did you lie?! You promised!” Just from the tone of his voice, he could tell Shouta was already on the verge of tears. “You...you’re not dying, are you?”

Touma darted his eyes forward to look at Shouta, surprised by his question.“Woah woah, I’m not dyin’. Just...let me explain?” Touma asked and stared back down at the floor. Hokuto stepped forward, eyeing him warily. “Lately...ever since the last concert, actually...I’ve been having these thoughts. They don’t- they don’t leave my head, no matter how much I want to think about something else. I’m always worried people are going to see me like that again…”

“Huh?” Shouta spoke softly. Hokuto folded his arms, unsure how to respond. Touma chastised himself for being so vague. They weren’t doctors.

“I’m...I hate feeling v-vulnerable, okay?” His voice cracked, and the world grew blurry in an instant. “My body ain’t sick. It’s just after I puked on stage, I never wanted to go through anything like that ever again. I hated it. Wanted to do anything I could to stop it from happening again. The worst part is it’s not even because I upset the fans, I hated it, personally. I’m selfish.”

“Hey...you’re not selfish...” The anger had all but disappeared from Shouta’s voice. He tried walking over to Touma’s line of sight, but Touma stared at their shoes instead. “The fans weren’t even really upset.”

“Of course they were. Otherwise they wouldn’t have raised such a huge stink about it.”

“They did that because they were worried…” Shouta started fishing around in his pockets and pulled out his cell phone. “Didn’t you see the footage from after you left?”

“Ah...I doubt he has.” Hokuto stated, peering over Shouta’s shoulder.

“And relive one of the worst moments of my life? No thanks.” Touma huffed. Nonetheless, Shouta looked determined to find something on his phone. A half second of cheering played from the device before Hokuto reached out and hit the mute button.

“Careful.” He warned.

“Sorry. You don’t have to watch that part, Touma, I’m skipping over it.” He dragged his finger across the screen. “Just- just look at this.” 

With Touma’s unwillingness to move, Shouta simply flipped the phone around and shoved it into his line of sight. He tried to look away, but he wasn’t quite fast enough - he caught a glimpse of the bright red shining out of the corner of his eye and his curiosity forced him to look.

“This is…” Something Touma certainly didn’t expect. Every light in the stadium lit up in a deep, vibrant red. He had heard of this thing happening before - audiences showing silent support for idols overwhelmed on the stage. But he had never witnessed it, let alone been the subject of that kind of solidarity. A mix of emotions welled up in Touma’s chest. “I don’t deserve these kinds of loyal fans, and I don’t...I don’t deserve you two as my friends.”

“Touma…” Shouta pleaded, taking his phone back. “You’re awesome, don’t ever think anything different. Is that why you didn’t tell us?”

“I guess I really didn’t think...it was that big of a deal…” It sounded so stupid coming out of his mouth. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Maybe I just didn’t want to admit I had a problem…”

“Kaoru said earlier in the hallway with the producer that he suspects you’ve been starving yourself. Is that true?” Hokuto questioned, attempting to be the level headed one but struggling based on the slight waver in his voice. Shouta whipped around towards Hokuto, then back at Touma.

“What! Touma, you gotta eat!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Touma sniffled, only to come to the startling realization he was crying. As if he had any dignity left to salvage, he buried his head in his hands. “You don’t understand...I’m so hungry all the time, but I can’t...I can’t...it’s the only way I have any control over my own damn body. The only way to try to make it stop…”

“Touma...you should have told us.” Shouta stated. Touma felt Shouta’s skinny arms wrap around his thin frame and stifled a sob.

“I know.” He choked out.

“I hope you know we’re not upset at you.” Hokuto started, footsteps quietly approaching before Touma felt the presence of a hand in his hair. “You should have told us because you’re dear to us.”

“I-I just…” Touma shuddered. “I’ve been so _afraid_.”

“Touma…” Shouta breathed. “It’s ok to be afraid.”

Despite himself, Touma removed his hands from his head and returned the embrace as he sobbed harder. Shouta squeezed him tight, reassuringly, while Hokuto’s hand traveled down his neck to rub calming circles into his back. The three stayed that way for several quiet minutes as Touma bared his previously well-hidden emotions, reveling in their comfort. So comforting, the thought of being trapped never crossed his mind. 

Once Touma had cried himself out, he pulled his arms away and Shouta followed suit. Hokuto gave him a soft pat on the shoulder before also removing his hand.

“A-anyways…” He spoke, red-faced and scratching his neck, as if he could play off such an outpouring of emotions. “Kaoru says I’m gonna need therapy…”

“Whatever you need, we’ll follow you every step of the way. I’m sure the producer will agree.” Hokuto said, his smile warm.

“Yeah! Just let us know if anything ever bothers you at all, even if you think it’s silly.”

“Thanks, you two. I really mean it. I’m sorry about...all this.” Touma smiled a little at the encouragement. As he looked up at his friends, he had a near-epiphany as to where they were. “Oh man, we’re still at the concert, too.”

“The concert’s important, but not as important as you!” Shouta declared. Touma found himself blushing again.

“Yeah, well...I think I’m okay for right now. Why don’t we try to finish up around here?”

“Only if you’re certain. If you have any problems, don’t hesitate to come to us about it.” Hokuto told him.

“Alright, alright, no need to nag me about it…” Touma replied, shakily settling back into his more confident self.

As he rose to his feet, he immediately felt _off_. The world tilted to one side, then slowly towards the other as if he were on a rocking boat. The nausea he had beat back wriggled into his gut, not enough to make him vomit, but enough to cause discomfort. 

“Feel weird…” Touma announced, trying to make good on his promise to be more open about his feelings. 

His legs wobbled as he took a step forward, and Shouta and Hokuto hovered on each side of him as a buffer. The edges of his vision blurred, followed by a harsh ringing in his left ear, then his right. _This isn’t good_ , was the only thought he could muster as he crumpled forward into Hotuko’s chest. Touma blinked, and he was suddenly laying on the ground with two familiar faces peering down at him. He must have looked confused because Hokuto spoke first-

“You fainted just now.” He stated, shaken.

“Your eyes rolled back in your head, like a horror movie.” Shouta added, probably trying to break the tension but uneasy all the same.

“Geeze…” Hokuto must have caught him. He tried to sit up, but two hands pushed him back.

“You should stay where you are, in case you fall again.” Hokuto said.

“We should probably tell Kaoru.” Shouta nodded, jumping to his feet.

“Don’t bother him again, it’s not-“

“Touma, if you say it’s not important, you’re gonna owe me lunch.” Shouta huffed. Touma shut his mouth.

After another quick talk with Kaoru, it was determined Touma’s blood sugar had probably bottomed out on top of all the stress, exhaustion, and probable dehydration. The Producer instructed Touma not to do any more labor, and Kaoru insisted he attempt to drink some of the ginger ale Tsubasa gave him earlier. Touma wanted to help out, or go home, or _something_ , but Hokuto and Shouta still needed to help prep for the concert, and no one trusted Touma to get home by himself in his current state. They gave him plenty of space to breathe in the supply closet though, and Touma managed to down half the bottle. He idly checked his phone, but his eyes grew harder and harder to keep open as his head nodded forward. 

“Come now, let’s get you home.” Hokuto’s voice said somewhere in the fog, shaking him awake. Drained of energy, he had dozed off.

Wordlessly, Touma followed them out of the building. Shouta grabbed his hand, as if Touma might wander off while they were on public transportation. Touma squeezed it encouragingly. He was more or less lucid, just horridly tired….no, more than just that-

“How are you feeling?” Hokuto whispered, standing in the car as Touma sat on the bench.

“Stomach hurts.” He responded.

“You’re probably hungry.”

“Mm.”

“Kaoru said you gotta eat or you’ll feel even worse.” Shouta said, voice not quite as hushed as Hokuto’s. “We’ll get you some food on the way back, kay?”

“I can feed myself…” Touma muttered, as if that wasn’t the one thing he had been failing to do for the past few weeks. So when they stopped by a convenience store near his apartment to buy him some food, he didn’t raise any objections. That was, not until Hokuto pulled out his wallet.

“I can-”

“I’m payin’ for it, so don’t even try.” Touma growled.

He had never been so thankful to approach home in his entire life. Eating and sleeping right now - such base needs as they were - sounded like heaven to Touma. As they stopped at the door, Hokuto and Shouta looked unsure of what to say next.

“Touma...take it easy?” Shouta offered, almost begging. Touma stared down at the ground in response.

“Touma, if anyone can make it through this, it’s you. Please, just work on building your strength up for the time being.” Hokuto said before pulling him into a quick hug. Touma yelped, and it was over fast. Something about it felt distinctly un-Hokuto like, but Touma was unsure of his own judgement in his current state. He simply sighed and nodded his head.

“Thanks...I will. Just bare with me you two. I’m going to get better.”

“Yeah!” Pleased by this answer, Shouta beamed back at him. Touma managed a genuine smile and waved at them before entering the building. 

On the elevator, he peered into the bag containing his lunch. Or, dinner. Whatever time it was. A sandwich, some veggie sticks, and a bottle of juice, about the healthiest you could get from a convenience store. He wondered how much more they had spoken with Kaoru without Touma’s knowledge, considering what they had picked. He also wondered if the concert would have been better off without him slowing down preparations, yet...if he hadn’t gone, there was no telling how much worse his condition would become. With the long day behind him, Touma heaved a sigh and dug through his pocket for his apartment key.

Only to find a pile of coins that weren’t there before jingling on top of it.

“Oh, goddammit, Hokuto!” As he pushed the money out of the way to retrieve his key and unlock the door, he grumbled in embarrassment and whipped out his phone.

_You’re a real son of a bitch, _he messaged him. Hokuto was quick - Touma had barely settled down in his apartment and unwrapped his sandwich when his phone buzzed again. The jerk, his response was just a stamp of a rabbit blowing a kiss. He angrily took a bite and tried not to think about what an idiot he was for keeping secrets from them.__

__Touma felt leagues better after eating something. Less irritable, less achy, less all around exhausted. Touma’s mental state transformed from bone tired to incredibly sleepy with his belly finally full. With a big yawn, he crawled into bed as soon as he had finished eating. Though the future remained uncertain, Touma was almost confident he could handle it with his friends by his side._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue about Touma's recovery coming soon, ish.


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short collection of moments during Touma’s recovery. OH GOD IT TOOK SO LONG I’M SORRY

“Yesterday was scary, huh?” Shouta asked, breaking the silence in the office. He had been staring outside the window, wordlessly, for the last several minutes now. At the moment, only Hokuto and the Producer were present. Due to Touma’s recent condition, the Producer had granted him a couple of days off to eat, rest, and build his strength back up. 

“Hm?” Hokuto prompted him as he glanced away from the schedule board to look at the younger boy. The Producer had also raised his head from his desk but recognized it was not his turn to speak.

“Oh, I dunno, haha...” He replied, laugh humorless. “Like...I guess I always thought Touma was pretty cool...a-and he still is! But to see him totally break down like that...it was really scary.” Poor Shouta’s little voice wavered. Lips pressed together in a thin line, Hokuto walked away from the board and took a seat on the couch next to him.

“Didn’t you tell him it was okay to be scared?” Hokuto reminded. Honestly, he was almost relieved Shouta had finally brought up the subject. He kept Shouta in the dark about more than he should have, and they said little else about Touma after leaving his place yesterday. Hokuto wondered about his perspective on the entire incident.

“Well, yeah. And I still think that, I think...it’s just. I told him that, but I was scared too. H-how am I supposed to be there for him when I-“ Shouta choked on a sob. “When I can’t even-“

“Shouta...” Hokuto mumbled, pulling him into a hug. It hurt him to see him cry. It hurt him to see either of his unit members cry. “It’s okay. We were all frightened.”

“E-even y-you?”

“I...” For a brief moment, Hokuto considered avoiding the question. But no, Shouta was almost fifteen now. He couldn’t keep treating him like a child. “Yeah.” Admitting it caused him to wince.

“Oh...” Shouta breathed. Hokuto knew he had to say it, but he still wished things had played out differently. Shouta buried his face into Hokuto’s chest as if to hide from the rest of the world. “I just...f-feel so useless...”

“Shh, you’re not useless. I believe you really got through to Touma yesterday. Now it’s up to him to do the rest.”

“But that’s the part that makes me feel useless...!” Shouta whined, shoulders stuttering with sobs. Leaning forward with Shouta still tucked under his arm, he plucked a tissue from a tissue box on the table in front of them and handed it to Shouta. He took it and blew his nose loudly.

“You can still give him your support, and your love.” He tried, but Shouta seemed unsatisfied with this answer. Unable to do much else, Shouta calmed down after a few more minutes of sobbing and pulled back.

“I’m gonna go wash my face...” He stated, leaving the office. With Shouta gone, Hokuto allowed himself a shuddering sigh.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Producer’s voice came from across the room, causing Hokuto to jump. He forgot they weren’t alone.

“Hm? Do what?” Hokuto asked, trying to regain his composure as quickly as possible.

“That. I know you feel responsible for the both of them, being the oldest and all, and you’re good at taking care of them. But that’s a lot for you to take on when you’re hardly even an adult yourself.”

Hokuto sucked in an unsteady breath.

“That’s what makes it so hard.” If it weren’t for years of voice training, it might have cracked on the last syllable. “I love them both, but there’s only so much I can do. But if I don’t give them my all, then who will?”

“You don’t have to take on everything by yourself, just because you’re the oldest. You’re not self produced anymore, you know.” The thought of what things might be like if this happened while they were self produced flashed through his mind, and he pushed it away even quicker. “You’re allowed to feel things. The entire agency is on your side, here to help each one of you.”

“I-I’m not-“ Hokuto carefully pressed his hands in the corners of his eyes to wipe away any potential tears forming. It was unlike him to get so emotional, they both knew - perhaps the stress was indeed getting to him. “I’m okay. It’s fine...but...I will keep that in mind.”

“Woah, Hokuto, your face is all red.” Shouta announced rather bluntly as he walked back in the room. Hokuto wondered if this was how Touma felt all the time, turning away as his face flushed in embarrassment. The cool, level-headed Hokuto, caught crying?

“Haha, you look like Touma when you make that face.” Shouta plopped down next to Hokuto on the couch with a gentle smile. “It’s ok though. If it’s okay for me and Touma to feel bad, I guess it wouldn’t make sense if you couldn’t feel feel bad too.”

“I just- if I had just said something, Touma wouldn’t be suffering...” Hokuto grabbed a tissue from the tissue box and pressed it to the corners of his eyes.

“It’s okay. We didn’t know...” Shouta said, looking down as if he blamed himself, too. Still staring at the ground, he pulled himself forward and hugged Hokuto from the side. 

Hokuto ran a hand through Shouta’s hair, and he allowed himself a few minutes to quietly weep.

***********************

“Okay, I give up...what are you doing, Touma?” Shouta cocked his head to the side as he asked.

Shouta had entered the office to find Touma sitting on the couch, legs folded underneath him, eyes closed and back straight. He drew in a deep, steady breath, held it for a moment, and released it in a long exhale. The sight of Touma so calm and still intrigued Shouta, so he sat there across from him, watching Touma intently and waiting for him to notice. But he never did. The inactivity both bored and confused him. Once Shouta broke the silence, Touma twitched with what was an obviously suppressed jump as he let the air out of his lungs and opened his eyes.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Not long enough to figure out whatever it is you’re doing, I guess.” Shouta shrugged.

“They’re...breathing exercises. To keep me calm.” 

“Are you anxious right now?” He asked, question innocent and brimming with curiosity. Shouta had been dying to know more about Touma’s condition, kept in the dark about a lot of things by the others who either wanted to ‘protect’ him, or, mostly in the case of Hokuto, weren’t sure what was okay to divulge.

“A...a little...I was mostly just told to practice them.” No one besides his unit mates, the producer, and Kaoru knew he had started attending therapy. At the moment, it was perhaps 315Pro’s best kept secret. In part, it was a business decision. Despite the producer’s encouragements, his willingness to treat the idols kindly and listen to what they needed, he knew better than to assume the general public would do the same. 

However, they _had_ briefly discussed going public about some of the details.

“It’s a risky move, but celebrities have become advocates for their issues before. You could help people.” The producer explained. “But it’s a lot of pressure, I know.”

“A _lot_ of pressure.” Touma repeated. “I wanna help out fans who are struggling, but...I think...if I had so many eyes on me while I was still trying to recover, it might seriously psyche me out.”

“Of course. I just thought I’d mention it, I wasn’t sure if you’d considered it yet is all.”

“I’m sorry...”

“No need to apologize. We support you no matter what you decide to do.” Hokuto said as he put a hand on Touma’s shoulder.

“Just keep doing your best, Touma!” Shouta grinned.

The stress of a certain someone breathing down his back over embarrassing secrets was the last thing that Touma’s anxiety-riddled mind needed. 

Shouta looked around the room. No other idols occupied the office at the moment, and the producer had run out to do a quick errand. Hokuto was somewhere in the building, but Shouta didn’t know where. It was just the two of them.

“Do you...have to take medicine?” He voiced the next question in a hushed tone. Touma scratched his neck and averted his gaze. 

“Yeah...” He leaned forward, pressing his hands together. “I take two in the morning and two at night. It’s probably temporary, but...”

“But what?”

“If I can’t kick this thing...it might be permanent. Taking the meds, I mean.” Touma frowned and raised his eyes to meet Shouta with a defeated expression. “Like, don’t get me wrong, I really don’t want to be reliant on pills, but if I can’t work the way everyone else does without them...”

“Touma...” The way Touma talked about himself gave Shouta a painful feeling in his chest. “Kaoru told me your mind is sick. How’s taking pills when you’re sick a bad thing?”

“Shouta, it’s not the same _kind_ of sick.” Touma replied, as if Shouta just asked the dumbest question in the world. He bristled at his tone, leaning forwards as his small hands formed into fists.

“How? How is it any different?” He fought not to raise his voice. “You’re tired all the time. You puke a lot. You don’t eat much. You’re sick. For real sick!” 

“Stop yelling, geeze. Real or not...I hate it, okay? I hate the fact I have to take pills just to feel...normal.”

Shouta forced his body to relax, but his face crumpled into a deep frown. He hated to see Touma like this, so down on himself when he deserved to give himself so much more credit. In one swift movement, Shouta stood up from his seat and crossed over to grab Touma in a tight hug. Touma tensed a little.

“I’m not asking for pity-“

“This isn’t pity. You’re not pitiful, just dumb.” He said, voice growing in intensity. “If this happened to me or Hokuto, would you think this terrible junk about us?”

“Well...no...”

“Exactly! Quit being so hard on yourself.” Shouta pulled back with a huff. Touma raised his arms to catch him in order to return the hug, but Shouta was too fast, and they lingered in the air uselessly. “Touma...even if you have to take medicine forever and ever...you’ll always be cool, okay?”

Touma dropped his arms back in his lap. His eyes wandered around the room, glancing from Shouta to the wall and back again as he considered his words.

“Thanks. You’re...a good kid, Shouta.” Too embarrassed to hug Shouta back now, Touma reached forward and gave his thin wrist a squeeze instead.

“I just wanna see you get better, y’know?” Shouta took a seat next Touma. “Hey, show me that breathing thing you were doing.”

“I mean, there’s really not much to it. Sit up, take in a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, and let it back out. Focus on something simple, like counting or remembering song lyrics.”

“And that calms you down?”

“It distracts me from all the buzzing in my brain, anyways.” Touma took a few deep breaths, and Shouta followed by example. 

—-

“Apologies,” Hokuto said, stepping into the office. “I had to take a call-“

“Hush!” Touma hissed. Intrigued, Hokuto took a few steps forward and circled around the couch. He realized suddenly that Touma was not alone - Shouta had fallen asleep against his shoulder. “We were doin’ calming breathing exercises and he just konked out on me.”

“It appears he got a little too calm.” Hokuto replied and stifled a soft laugh.

***********************

Hokuto shot another glance over at Touma, just as the director dismissed everyone from filming. Hokuto, Touma, Teru, and Rui had been accepted for a short acting job in a short commercial. It was Touma’s first big scheduled job since he began attending therapy several weeks back. His poor friend struggled between takes - Touma was stuck performing while the camera rolled, and if he ran off, it would hold everyone up involved in production. At least his constant low level of anxiety managed not to show through while they filmed their lines.

Hokuto was proud of Touma for sticking through it, not that Touma’s stubbornness would allow for anything less. More than that, he managed to eat from a bag of jerky when they took a quick break for lunch, even if how he ate so little concerned Rui and Teru. Hokuto wished they would keep quiet, but he held nothing against them. They knew nothing about what Touma had gone through over the past month. He was embarrassed enough as it was, so his condition was kept from everyone at the agency other than Kaoru and the Producer upon his request.

The director finished talking. Touma sucked in a deep breath, steadying himself, quietly miserable from stress of the past five hours. Hokuto gave him a discreet pat on the back as he lead the four to the elevator to leave.

“Excellent work today. Let’s take you home.” Hokuto comforted with a smile. Touma smiled back, but it was shaky. Not a good sign. Hokuto pressed the button, and the four made their descent from the 12th floor to the 1st.

Touma’s face turned a pale shade of green around the eighth floor.

“H-Hokuto...I’m gonna...” Touma warned. 

“Huh? Touma?” Teru suddenly piped up. Touma’s whole body went rigid, as if reminded they weren’t alone.

Hokuto mashed the button to the next floor. Touma clasped his hands over his mouth, shoulders hunched and fighting to keep it down. But it was too late, Touma retched, and what little food he ate earlier came rushing back up into his hands and spilled onto the elevator carpet. Rui and Teru understandably jumped in the direction of the door to avoid the spew, but they couldn’t get far until the elevator opened with a soft ding.

“ _Oh no!_ ” Rui cried, caught off guard. Touma shut his eyes tight, face changing from green to red.

“Easy, easy...” Hokuto cooed, gripping Touma’s forearm firmly to steady him. With just a reassuring gaze towards Rui, he understood, and backed out of the elevator to allow them to pass. Teru followed suit after a moment of hesitation, awkwardly glancing between the three of them. “Rui, please go inform someone about a mess in the elevator.”

“Oh. _Okay_! Leave it to me!” Rui still wore a look of uncertainty, but Hokuto knew Rui would trust him enough to handle things. Teru was about to speak up, when Hokuto subtly interrupted him.

“Teru, could you please watch the door outside the bathroom while we clean up?” Hokuto had to think fast on his feet. Hopefully giving the two something to do would ease their minds and keep them out of Touma’s hair to soothe his anxiety.

“A-alright.” He clearly wanted to say something to Touma, but he had shut his eyes tight as his body trembled. Hokuto wondered if it was shame, or if he was struggling not to heave again. Touma answered his question as soon as they entered the bathroom, regaining some semblance of control as he tore away from Hokuto’s grasp.

“Don’t look.” He pleaded.

“Touma, I’ve already seen you-“

“Just d-don’t, okay?” He tried again, unable to even rinse his dirty hands before he leaned over the sink with an empty heave. 

Though he failed to understand why Touma wanted space after all they had been through, he nonetheless respected his boundaries. Hokuto stood facing the wall, as if one of his best friends wasn’t straining to vomit up an empty stomach over a restroom sink, and even pulled out his phone in hopes that might reassure him further. Hokuto stared at the lock screen dully, mind flashing back to what Shouta said about uselessness. He had tried to give Touma his privacy, but failed to realize he was a witness, too. He only turned back around once he heard the sink start running.

“I failed. I’m a failure.” Touma croaked, voice rough from his burning throat.

“Don’t b-“ Hokuto held his tongue. Of course Touma was embarrassed, hard on himself, his irrationality was born from his illness. “You’re not a failure, Touma.”

“You can say it. It’s stupid. This whole thing is fucking st-stupid.” Touma sucked in a shuddering breath, turning the water hotter as he scrubbed his hands. “It’s so stupid, and gross, and I’m gross, and- and-!”

Water welled up in his eyes, on the verge of angry tears. Hokuto grabbed a few paper towels and stepped forward towards Touma, who snatched them out of his hand to violently wipe at his mouth.

“And what...?” Hokuto asked. Now clean, Touma buried his face in his hands.

“And...I’m afraid I’ll-I’ll n-never get any better. I’ll just be s-stuck like this for the rest of my life...!” Touma sobbed. “And now I’m fucking cr-crying...”

Hokuto’s chest squeezed at the sight, to see Touma cry, to see him hurt. Touma wanted nothing more than to be Jupiter’s fearless leader, but his sensitivity was a blessing and a curse. Hokuto moved closer, testing the waters, before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Touma...It’s okay. Feeling like you’ve failed...it’s difficult, no?” Hokuto started with a squeeze of Touma’s shoulder. Touma didn’t look up, so he kept going. “I can’t imagine the things that must be going through your mind. Recovery can’t be an easy road. But as long as you tried your best...if you tried at all...that’s what matters.”

“Yeah, well...” Touma paused to think with a sniffle. “I just hope this doesn’t set me back...”

“You’ll get through this, Touma...you’re the most stubborn, determined person I’ve ever met.” Hokuto smiled softly. Touma glanced up at him then, clearly embarrassed for different reasons, and looked away.

“Thanks...I mean it...” He muttered, and Hokuto knew he did.

Touma took the next several minutes to recollect himself. Going out there to face their friends with evidence of having been crying would only be even more embarrassing, after all, and Hokuto waited patiently while Touma took deep breaths and splashed his face with cold water.

“They’re probably going to ask what’s going on. Do you want me to talk to them for you?”

“I...No. I can...I can handle it.” He said and dabbed his face with a dry paper towel. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Touma pushed the door open to see Rui and Teru leaning against the adjacent wall, chatting. Both their faces lit up for a moment when they saw Touma, but Teru’s fell again as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Hey, you were in there for a long time. Are-”

“I’m really sorry.” Touma cut Teru off suddenly, straightening his back and bowing deeply. “I’m really sorry you had to see that. I never meant to...do something so...” 

Even Rui frowned at that, and Teru’s concern visibly deepened. Hokuto watched with a raised eyebrow as Touma’s words failed him. He wanted to say something, but he had a gut feeling Teru and Rui would say it for him. Besides, it might upset Touma if Hokuto refused to let him handle it on his own.

“Touma, look at me.” Teru said. Touma raised his head, steeling himself. “It’s no big deal, okay? It’s a little gross, but it’s not the end of the world. We’re more worried about you, y’know.”

“You said this is the third time now?” Rui asked. Touma flinched.

“Yeah. I asked Kaoru what was wrong after the last concert when you got sick, but he just got mad and muttered about doctor patient confidentiality. Are you okay?”

“I...uhm...” Touma’s face paled as he straightened out and rubbed the back of his neck in a self-soothing gesture. “I don’t...like talking about it. It’s like...when I just...”

Hokuto only spoke when he knew Touma needed a push.

“You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to, Touma.” Hokuto chimed in. Though it was meant to motivate him, it was also true.

“Shush! I said I can handle this!” Touma huffed. “The puke thing...it happens sometimes. It’s nothing serious, and I’m...working on it. B-but it’s really embarrassing when it does. Please don’t...don’t tell the others I did it again.”

“Hmm? _Did what again_?” Rui said, playfully feigning ignorance.

“Haha. Really though, your secret’s safe with us.” Teru grinned and patted Touma on the back harder than necessary. Touma stood up, sighing shakily.

“Rui, did you tell someone about the elevator?” Hokuto asked.

“ _Yes_. They’re cleaning it now.” 

“Well then, shall we take the stairs?” Hokuto led everyone towards the exit stairs, taking note of how Touma’s shoulders slumped. He wasn’t the only one, it seemed, and Teru took a few quick steps to close the distance between them.

“Did I ever tell you about the time in college I threw up on this girl I really liked?” Teru smiled wide again, but Touma only tensed.

“Teru, you don’t have to pity m-“

“I’m not! It’s a really funny story though. We were both at this party together, and I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her, right? And...”

Hokuto observed Touma carefully as they descended, understanding Teru’s motivations but a little afraid it might upset Touma’s unstable condition. It seemed to have the intended effect, however. The story was rather inane, in all honesty, but Teru was a decent storyteller who made it kind of fun anyways.

“Haha, that’s gross.” Touma responded with a genuine laugh.

“I know! It’s almost like that’s why she never went out with me.”

Touma relaxing let Hokuto relax as well. As they reached the bottom of the stairs and left the building, it was almost like the whole thing never happened.

“Well, see you two later. Feel better,  
okay Touma?” Teru waved. 

“ _Get well soon_!” Rui added.

“Thanks, guys. I will!” Touma waved back.

“Ciao.” Hokuto bid them goodbye, and only spoke to Touma once they were out of earshot. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better...don’t know why I was so worried. Pretty dumb of me.”

“Ah, it’s not dumb. It must be difficult to control.” Hokuto smiled and looked down at him. “Still, there really is nothing to worry about. We all care about you, you know.”

“Y-yeah...I know...” Touma blushed and jerked his head away, and Hokuto knew that he did.

***********************

“Hey, what the hell is this?” Touma announced his presence rather loudly as he stepped into the office. The Producer jumped a little, looking up from his work to address Touma. He was holding a few stapled pieces of paper up in the air indignantly as he approached the Producer’s desk with a frown.

“Is something wrong?” The producer asked, tone calm but tinged with concern around the edges. Touma had the tendency to be a little dramatic, though well meaning in his complaints.

He laid down the source of his ire on the table top with a soft whap - an updated timeline of his scheduled events. The producer looked to the schedule, up at Touma, and back down again. No immediate conflicts jumped out at him, so he had no clue where Touma’s problem lied. The producer peered up at him as he wordlessly requested an explanation.

“Is it not obvious? You removed or rescheduled a whole bunch of stuff!”

“Oh? Well, I was informed by Hokuto that at the last appearance, you had a hard time managing your...” The Producer mulled over his wording carefully. “...self. I hadn’t taken that into account with your old schedule. So I thought-“

“Cut the crap. Is this some kind of punishment?” Touma cut interrupted, eyes narrowed. Ah. Though Touma had cast off a lot of his distrust built up by his previous production company, his guard was easily raised, and the Producer had a clearer understanding of his anger.

“What? Of course not.” The Producer reassured. 

“So, you’re _not_ mad at me, then?”

“I’m not going to get mad at you over something you can’t control. I just wanted to accommodate you until you were up for longer scheduled appearances again. It’s only temporary.” Touma sighed, releasing some tension in his shoulders with it, but his face still crumpled. Almost pouting, really.

“Still...I don’t need you to baby me.” He muttered, pulling the paper off the table. Touma stared out the window, unfocused, in an attempt to avert his gaze. “You could maybe get a little mad...”

“Sorry, I’m...not sure what you mean.” The producer tilted his head with an apologetic smile. He considered what Touma said, and his face fell. “But I’m not trying to baby you. I just don’t want to make things harder than they have to be for you.”

“It’s just...” Touma scratched his neck and still refused to look up. The Producer leaned in, listening intently, before Touma suddenly wadded up the schedule in his hands and tossed it into the garbage. He might have commented on his impressive throw, under different circumstances. “Nevermind. This was stupid. I’ll leave now.”

“Touma? Hey.” The producer got up from his chair a little too fast, and it clattered against the floor. “It’s not stupid. We’re talking about your health and your career. Tell me what it is you wanted to say.”

Touma stood in the middle of the room for several moments, then heaved a long, weary sigh. He grabbed an office chair from near by, positioning it at the opposite side of the desk and sitting down on it heavily. All the while, he muttered something about the producer being ‘too nice all the time’. Satisfied, the producer sat back down and folded his hands on the table.

“I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, honest.” Touma began, staring at the floor and using his foot to pivot himself around in the chair. “Just...I can’t sit around and wait to recover, because I gotta be proactive about it, y’know? I won’t get better if I stay in my comfort zone.”

“So...you’re saying you _want_ me to push you then?” The producer tilted his clasped hands forward for emphasis.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I think I need right now.” Touma nodded, scratching his chin and meeting the producer’s gaze. “Am I making any sense?”

“You’re making plenty of sense.” The Producer reassured with a nod. “It’s just like you to push forward, no matter what the problem is. It’s what makes you such a great idol. I just want to make sure you’re not pushing yourself to the brink just because you’re not recovering as fast as you want. The commercial job was a little overwhelming, wasn’t it?”

“Well...” Touma turned his attention back to the floor tiles. “It worked out...but you didn’t have to go this far.”

The producer hummed in thought for a moment. Quietly, he reached into the trash can and picked out Touma’s discarded paper ball. He laid it on the desk, thin fingers spreading the expanse of the paper and straitening it back out. Crumpled, but still readable, he handed it back to Touma with another kind smile.

“I’m sorry for not asking in the first place, but I hope we can still compromise. Look over what I’ve changed, and tell me what you think you can manage.”

“Oh. Alright...” Touma grabbed the bottom corner and scanned over the information. Genuine surprise settled into his features, the producer guessed he never imagined this would be so simple. “I just need some goals to work towards. I can’t improve staying the way I am.”

“Hmm...Do you think you could handle a concert again?” It was thinking out loud, but Touma’s face turned green at the mere suggestion. 

“I-I know I need to, but th-that’s a little...”

“Not soon! Not soon.” He waved his hands. Touma closed his eyes, breathing in a sharp breath before letting it out slowly. After a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes again. “Maybe a new tour...six months from now?”

“Yeah...I can do that....” He mumbled, then furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah, I can do that.” He repeated with growing conviction.

“You can do it. I know you can.”

“Yeah! I will!” Touma nodded fiercely, then slapped the schedule on the table. “Now, about this right here...”

Seeing Touma coming back to his old self filled the producer with more than a little relief.

***********************

It had taken a long time for Touma to reach the point he was at right now - a lot of practice, training, and mental preparation for the tour.

They started small. The producer, a man Touma found himself respecting more and more as the time passed, called up a local venue on favor to allow Touma and his friends to hang around a tiny concert stage for an hour once a week. It was a strange request, but a simple one to grant, since they required no equipment other than keeping a few lights on. Otherwise, it was just Touma, Hokuto, and Shouta.

Shouta ran up on stage, motioning for Touma to follow him. Hokuto knew better, though, and he lingered around the steps and cast Touma a concerned look. Touma breathed in deep, curling and uncurling his fingers. He could do it. He just...needed a minute.

“What’s on your mind right now?” Hokuto asked, short and to the point. Shouta realized Touma had hesitated and forced himself to calm down before wandering back over.

“Thinkin’ about the last time I was on stage.”

“Our concert?” Shouta sat down and swung his legs off the side of the stage, sensing this might take some time.

“No, not that.”

“That was when we helped at the Dramatic Stars show, wasn’t it?” Ever perceptive, Touma confirmed Hokuto’s guess with a nod.

“Oh yeah, I forgot that day that you- uh, yeah.” They had established some new rules together - Touma requested neither of them talk directly about him being sick, just hearing and talking about it made him nauseous. Touma also established a hand signal for when he thought he might throw up and his throat was too tight to speak. 

Luckily, he hadn’t needed to use it yet.

“I can’t believe after two years of doing this, I’ve got stage fright.” Touma chuckled bitterly. “I just think about what happened before, and I...” He swallowed hard. He felt sick to his stomach and idly wondered where the bathroom was.

“But it’s not the stage you’re afraid of.” Hokuto cut through his thoughts, hand on his chin. “It’s yourself.” Touma frowned at the idea.

“Uh...I mean-“

“Think about it. It’s not just the stage you’ve had to acclimate yourself to. It’s living your every day life again. The stage is where this all started, but it’s not the stage itself doing this- it’s you.” Hokuto concluded. He folded his arms and stared back, waiting for an answer. Touma averted his eyes to focus on a spot on the wall.

“...shit, dude.”

“I’m not trying to call you out or make you feel bad. I just want to remind you that the stage is not your enemy.”

“Maybe you have some bad memories on the stage, but think about all the good ones that we’ve had together!” Shouta added, pumping his fists. 

Touma took in a few deep breaths with his eyes shut. Breathe. Just breathe. Count to ten, and back down...

“Okay. I’m ready.” Touma declared, brows furrowed with determination. Shouta stood up, smiling, and he and Hokuto held out their hands to lead Touma onto the stage.

That had been months ago. He built up his will, almost like a muscle, slowly but surely getting to know the stage once again. Initially, he couldn’t stay on it long at all. Hokuto and Shouta remained patient throughout, however, and on some days Touma wondered how they could stand him and his irrational fears. But they did, and Touma felt more and more comfortable on the stage and in his own skin. Around the two month mark, they took Touma out to eat. He ate half a sandwich without throwing it up, and it was considered by everyone to be a victory. 

That was months ago. His eating habits had restabilized, and he gained back the weight he had lost. A lot of recovery was going through simple, every day motions, gradually improving over time. Some days were hard. Some days set him back. But he succeeded more often than not, and life returned relatively to normal.

There was just one mountain left to climb, now.

“Are you ready?” Out of the two, Hokuto was the one who spoke up. Shouta lingered behind, features drawn, but unsure of what he should say.

The tension hung thick in the air, at least among the people who knew about Touma’s problem. Touma almost wondered if they were more nervous than he was, but he was really, really nervous, so that was unlikely. He was his own worst enemy, Touma reminded himself.

“No sweat. Let’s give it our all, okay?” Touma grinned, trying to trick himself into a confidence boost. 

“Right!” Shouta replied.

“I’m trusting you, Touma.” Hokuto said, smiling back. Touma tried not to let that pressure him as the three were motioned backstage.

——

Touma had done it. He came close a couple of times, but more or less found himself rediscovering the zen like focus that came with things like keeping rhythm, staying in time with the music, and reciting lyrics. Persistent nausea was a small, annoying part of the background noise in his brain, but he managed it for the most part. Encore finally finished, the three waved at their fans before exiting behind the stage. Touma had never completed a concert so emotionally exhausted before. 

The producer beamed just off the stage, and Hokuto and Shouta patted Touma on the back as they walked towards him.

“You did it!” Shouta cheered.

“How do you feel?” The relief was evident in Hokuto’s voice. Touma ran a shaky hand through his own sweaty hair, breathed, and counted to ten.

“Good.” Amazing, actually, but ‘good’ was easier to say with his throat wound tight.

“We’re all really proud of you.” Said the producer.

It shocked Touma he managed not to barf even after they got to the hotel. He truly thought he would, the stress probably enough to give an elephant an ulcer. His dinner consisted of one bottle of ginger ale, which he nursed over the next hour as he came down off his shot nerves. Anxiety gone, exhaustion crept in on him as he fell asleep on top of the covers, phone in hand.

He woke up to his phone vibrating next to his head. Touma moved slowly, finding the blankets pulled up over him as he groped around in the dark for his phone. Fingers brushing against the hard plastic case, he hit the home button and squinted in the darkness. An unfamiliar number appeared on the display.

_This is Kaoru Sakuraba. Congratulations._

_Thanks. For everything_ , he sent back.

Typing...

No typing.

Typing...

No typing.

Typing...

_You’re welcome._

Smiling, Touma turned off his phone and went back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you all enjoy this fic, it's effectively going to be about anxiety and the effects it has on your daily life and the lives of those that care about you. It will probably be 3-4 chapters long and conclude sometime in March. Give me your feedback and stay tuned!


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